


He's an Idiot With Problems and I'm Just The Odd Jobs Dog

by InfiniteInMystery



Series: Gintoki's Angsty Mental Moments [7]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, BESTEST BOY, Crying, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gintoki being Gintoki, Gintoki is Suffering, I know this was rated G before but it's an M now sorry, It's angst now, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sadaharu POV first chapter, Sadaharu's A Good Boy, Suicidal Thoughts, not sorry, unintentional self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24236089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteInMystery/pseuds/InfiniteInMystery
Summary: Believe it or not, Sadaharu does a lot of work around Odd Jobs. Like prowling through the night, chasing away demons that no one else can see, and saving damsels in distress before they fall and hurt themselves.And simultaneously, Gintoki faces his stark reality.
Series: Gintoki's Angsty Mental Moments [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767850
Comments: 10
Kudos: 168





	1. Good Boys Make Sure Their People Don't Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Another 500-word drabble that got really long.
> 
> Enjoy. Bet you didn't realize you needed Sadaharu being the bestest support boy.

Sadaharu was just the Odd Jobs dog, but he sure did pat himself on the back for a lot of important tasks around this crazy household.

In the dead of night, Sadaharu sat up from where he had been protectively sleeping just outside of Kagura's closet door. His eyes were blurry and tired but his ears were perked and alert, twitching, listening. He yawned, liked to imagine his massive canines glittered in the moonlight from the office window like some sort of bad-ass creature of the night, but when he stretched out his back legs, he forgot all about that. He was a simple beast, after all, living for the simple pleasures. He liked to play pretend sometimes but right now something important was disrupting his nap.

There was a sound that had easily roused him from his gentle sleep as canines were wont to do. In all fairness, he didn't usually sleep through the night anyway because there were too many noises in the streets, too many smells. Kagura snoring, Gintoki in general. But this was a sound that Sadaharu had become familiar with. Lately, it was something he listened for even during the day.

As quietly as he could, Sadaharu padded over to Gintoki's bedroom. With his nose, he gently slid the door open with enough ease that it could have been considered an impressive trick. He had learned to do so some weeks ago, had been practicing every other day now it seemed. Sliding doors were no problem for him at all – he could open them without making a sound now. If he put his mind to it, he really could do anything.

Sadaharu strode in. Gintoki's room always smelled like sweat and day-old booze because the window was always closed now to ward off the nightly chill and block out the lights from outside. Sadaharu didn't need to be well-adjusted to the dark to be able to immediately find Gintoki's sleeping figure because the smell rolling off the man gave him away. It wasn't the sweat and booze that lured the Inugami in.

Sadaharu watched him for a moment, watched him shift uncomfortably under the blankets. In hindsight, Sadaharu shouldn't have been surprised all those weeks ago. It was the sound that had attracted Sadaharu into the man's room that first-night several weeks ago, the gentle whine high in the back of Gintoki's throat that had sounded like a puppy crying out in danger. It was the smell that had told Sadaharu that something was amiss. Sometimes, Gintoki woke up Kagura but Kagura pretended like she couldn't hear him crying in his sleep. This wasn't something Sadaharu wanted Kagura to see, it wasn't something he wanted Gintoki to even do. He had considered ignoring it. But it had been the scratching that had prompted Sadaharu into action, the blood, sweat, and tears – all literally – that had made Sadaharu lay down next to Gintoki and start this weird little habit of theirs.

As expected, it was happening again.

Sadaharu quickly moved to stand over Gintoki. The man was lying curled up on his side, hair messy and eyes squeezed shut. He smelled like sweat and distress. With care Sadaharu would never show, he pinched Gintoki's blanket gently between his teeth and tossed the covers away. Gintoki curled up tighter in the cold, knees almost to chest. He was clawing at his arm again, his right hand clamped around his left like a vice. The bandages that had become a permanent accessory were hanging off Gintoki's arm like threads again. Blunt nails tore through skin leaving a messy patch of scratches behind, salty tears streaming down his cheeks as he silently suffered. Sometimes he would mumble, would plead, would say names that Sadaharu had never heard before. But Sadaharu had found out that if Gintoki had something more solid to hold onto than himself, he would sleep a little easier.

Sadaharu huffed. With one massive paw, he trapped Gintoki's offending hand and then laid down over it, trying not to stop the blood flow but making sure that the arm was trapped. He also made sure that the injured one wasn't caught beneath either of their bodies, that the cuts weren't smothered in dog hair. It folded neatly against Gintoki's chest, protected. The man would complain in the morning about how numb his arm was, but Sadaharu, fortunately, wasn't human so he didn't care. Gintoki could bark all day if he wanted to but as long as Sadaharu was gentle and careful, Gintoki wouldn't wake up and disappear into the night.

Kagura would complain in the morning too about how there was blood in Sadaharu's fur again, but maybe Gintoki would clean it off before Kagura even woke up. Gintoki had been doing that recently. He no longer woke up surprised to have dog hair in his mouth and his sinuses clogged. He'd accepted the whole situation alarmingly well.

Sadaharu didn't care about the blood in his fur. He was well-fed and well-loved and the least he could do was offer his owner warmth and a helping paw when Gintoki himself was vulnerable in his sleep, whether it be in the middle of the night or a nap in the middle of the day.

As Sadaharu settled carefully down, Gintoki settled against him as well. He clutched at Sadaharu's giant fore-paw, his body instinctively moving closer to the warmth the Inugami had to offer.

Sadaharu finally shut his eyes. Gintoki stopped crying shortly after, stopped fidgeting, his face pressed into white fur, his body melting into Sadaharu's own like he were a giant pillow.

This, Sadaharu didn't mind. He would do this every night if he had to for as long as he lived. And when Gintoki woke up, he'd stare at Sadaharu's face with those half-lidded dead-fish eyes and ever so softly he would mutter a thank-you. Sadaharu wouldn't say anything back because he was just the Odd Jobs dog. This was the least he could do.

–

The next morning, Sadaharu sat at the end of the couch staring longingly at Kagura. Kagura wasn't paying attention to him, she was too busy staring at the TV, watching something really annoying because everyone kept yelling on the screen. Sadaharu didn't know what it was and he didn't care because he was an Inugami and all he wanted was to be pet and called a Good Boy. Kagura had been eating pickled seaweed for the past hour, had been sitting in the middle of a mountain of uneaten snacks and empty wrappers, hadn't said anything to Sadaharu since she had gotten up that morning.

Earlier, Gintoki had cleaned off Sadaharu's paws again. He had cried over it in the bathroom – discreetly, of course, he honestly believed no one could hear him – before cleaning himself up. And then the man had come out and sighed. He had sighed so heavily with such sad eyes before giving Sadaharu a nice good pat on the head and leaving before Kagura even woke up.

He had been gone all day.

Sadaharu considered yipping at Kagura to get some attention for the first time today. It was later now, late afternoon and he had gone outside to relieve himself on his own. Kagura hadn't even noticed his new little door trick. But speaking of the front door, it suddenly opened before Sadaharu could come to a decision. He turned his head excitedly at the smell of strawberries, tail already wagging as Gintoki came sauntering into the house, a light plastic bag hanging from his hand. The usual bandages on his left arm were gone, replaced with a soft pad held on by thin strips of tape peeking out from the hem of his yukata. Gintoki's eyes slid to Sadaharu first, red-rimmed and puffy, before he smiled one of those shy but appreciative smiles, glancing back over to Kagura.

“It's about time you came back! You didn't even tell me where you were going so I sent Shinpachi home before he could even make dinner! I thought you skipped town with a lady and were trying to make me pay the old lady your owed rent!” Kagura said. She glanced over to Gintoki, mouth open to say more but she paused. She blankly blinked at the state of his face before her eyes trailed down to the plastic bag. Distracted, they flickered up to stare at what little was exposed of his arm. She already knew about his sleeping problems, but Gintoki pretended like she didn't know. She had seen him itching earlier in the week and Sadaharu had caught her staring at his bandaged arm multiple times. Not much got by the Inugami under the Odd Jobs roof; Sadaharu was the silent observer.

Gintoki sighed just as heavily as he had that morning. He moved over to the couch across from Kagura's, sitting down and tossing the bag onto his coffee table. It was light, whatever it was inside rattled. “Bad news bears, Kagura-chan.”

“There are bears?” Kagura asked, her voice immediately stricken. She glanced over to Gintoki with wide eyes. “Were you attacked by bears? What happened to your arm?”

“No, it's a saying. I mean I...” Gintoki trailed off before leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He was smiling before he tripped up on his own words, the smile disappearing. When he sighed again, Sadaharu came over to sit within reach, staring at his arm intently. He smelled like antiseptic and someone familiar. Gintoki glanced up to Sadaharu before sitting up properly, chuckling as he reached out with it to give Sadaharu a nice pat on the shoulder. Sadaharu yipped.

“I saw a friend and maybe I got a little side-tracked,” Gintoki explained, eyes turning back to Kagura. “You know, like Phone-a-Friend? Like when you can't answer the Jeopardy question so you call someone for help who hopefully knows what the answer is?”

“It's about time,” Kagura said, turning back to the TV. She turned up the volume. “You're so stupid. Why'd you wait so long?”

Gintoki chuckled, the tension dissipating. “Because I'm being a responsible adult and setting an example to you of what not to do? It's a teaching tactic, you know. Like when you watch Shinpachi sing, you realize maybe you shouldn't try doing that in public yourself.”

“Stupid.” Kagura huffed. She got up from the couch then, bringing her horde of uneaten snacks with her. She plopped down on Gintoki's side of the couch, shoving the snacks between them and finally reaching out to pet Sadaharu. Sadaharu yipped again, laying down at their feet. His people were home, and they were both in good care for once.

Kagura kicked her feet up onto the table. She poked at the plastic bag, glancing at it's meager contents. “What are those? Sleeping pills? They better knock you on your ass or I'll just have to start doing it for you. What you need is to snack regularly and have some THC.”

“Uh-” Gintoki chuckled awkwardly, giving her a suspicious side glance. “You mean TLC?”

“That too,” Kagura said. “And you also need to get a body pillow so you stop staining Sadaharu's fur. The crying I will allow because my Momma said that your tears are just as efficient as using a face mask. If you ask Shinpachi really nicely, he might get you a big pillow from one of his weeb stores.”

And just like that Gintoki laughed for the first time in a few days, a hand on Sadaharu's readily available ear. He glanced down at the Inugami and smiled again, one of those smiles that made Sadaharu feel warm inside.

“I already have a pillow,” Gintoki said, patting Sadaharu for emphasis. “You can't just buy _any_ pillow Kagura. A man needs a good pillow to support his neck so he doesn't wake up sore and cranky the next morning.”

“Am I supposed to learn from example now too?” Kagura asked, turning to Gintoki. “Are you going to buy me a pillow? A real pillow?”

Sadaharu yipped and closed his eyes for a nap while the two of them derailed into an argument about pillows. If Sadaharu could talk, he'd say he only helped for Kagura's sake. But unfortunately – or fortunately, depending on how one looked at it – Sadaharu couldn't talk and no one would ever ask.

He was just the Odd Jobs dog. He didn't need anything more than that.


	2. Reaching Out Is Hard Until You Realize The Consequences Are Harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gintoki left that morning after cleaning off Sadaharu and came back that evening looking better.
> 
> He ran into his two closest friends, and they weren't putting up with his shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating changed. The tags got worse. Gintoki is suffering.
> 
> I should have split this up into two parts but I didn't.

When Gintoki woke up that morning with a numb arm and his face covered in dog hair, he wasn't surprised. He was disappointed, disappointed that this still happened every day like the war only ended yesterday. It was the full-body kind of disappointment too, the kind that instantly drained the energy from him, left his eyelids heavy and his heart aching and his soul clinging to life.

He snorted through the fur, slowly tilting his head back so he could get in a decent breath past his clogged sinuses, settling into the morning routine he and his dog had unfortunately set weeks prior. Sadaharu was lying beside him acting as a giant, fluffy, body pillow, strategically pinning his right arm while snoring gently as he nuzzled his head closer to Gintoki's. Gintoki's left arm was cradled into his chest, bandages loose, and new blood staining the front of his yukata. He hardly felt the sting past the burn that sprung up behind his eyes.

It was happening every day now. Every morning there was fresh blood. It just seemed as though Sadaharu didn't catch the quiet episodes.

Eyes squeezing shut, Gintoki yawned, his forehead dropping tiredly into the Inugamai's fur again. His room was still dark enough to suggest it was early, very early, nothing but the phantom emotions from the dream reminding Gintoki that he had been having the same nightmares over and over again, day and night, the cycle repeating in shorter intervals. This was the only moment of peace he got.

After five more minutes of shut-eye and an internal pep-talk that sounded more like a lecture coming straight from Katsura's mouth, Gintoki began to shift from beneath Sadaharu. He woke the Inugami up when he tried to pull his right hand free, the lazy beast cracking open his eyes tiredly and pressing his cold nose into Gintoki's cheek. Sadaharu glanced at Gintoki and Gintoki stared back, appreciation and embarrassment and shame clouding his thoughts.

“Thank-you.” He murmured sincerely, eyes dropping then. Embarrassment? Shame? He wasn't sure. He shifted again and Sadaharu got the hint. The beast rolled onto his side, freeing Gintoki's arm. The dog got up after too, stretching out his front legs while he yawned, already aware of what would happen next.

The cleanup didn't take very long because Gintoki had learned what worked best. Gintoki started with the blood on Sadaharu's leg after pulling the ragged bandages off his own arm. Took some dish soap and a wet cloth and massaged it into Sadaharu's stained fur until the red left behind a brown patch. He was thorough about it, took his time to make sure the soap was frothing and that he rinsed it as good as he could. The remnants would disappear with time, nothing more than a visual reminder that what Gintoki was (rather, _wasn't_ ) doing wasn't fair to anyone under his roof. Not even himself.

“Go back to your own bed.” Gintoki said once Sadaharu's fur was acceptable. He stood in the doorway to his bathroom, yawning casually like his heart didn't hurt to see his own blood smeared on his little girl's dog. Again. He shooed Sadaharu away with his hands when the Inugami didn't move, his voice cracking when he repeated himself. Sadaharu glanced down to him, puppy eyes wide and full of concern, but his job was done and there was nothing more the beast could do. Sadaharu made a quiet huffing sound before finally standing back up and doing as he was told.

Once Sadaharu was out of the main hallway, Gintoki quietly slid the bathroom door closed and locked it behind him. He placed a hand to his forehead then, taking in a short breath to steady himself. His thoughts were swirling, dancing around the one emotion that was evident in his dreams, the one thing that brought him down faster than the front step when he was drunk. It had been relentless for days now, guilt eating him until he was shoving away too many leftovers and crawling into bed early.

Exhaling shakily, Gintoki moved over to his sink. From the cabinet beneath it, he pulled out his supplies, quickly setting to cleaning himself up. The scratches were shallow, only a couple new ones this time because Sadaharu was responding quicker and quicker in the night. He'd torn open some of his scabs, the biggest source of the bleeding, but all and all it hadn't been as bad as when this had started before Sadaharu had intervened. His nails were still short so he didn't bother clipping them again, but he did take extra care to scrub the blood out from beneath his nails first.

His thoughts were blank as Gintoki wrapped up his own arm again, hiding it. His thoughts were blank but his cheeks were instantly wet anyway, frustration and hopelessness crushing him from the inside out. He was going to die like this. He believed this could actually bring him down.

He washed his face and patted it dry when he was done crying before skulking back to his bedroom to change out of his stained yukata – another one in the wash, another one he'd have to scrub to try and get the blood out. So much more work every day now to try and look like a regular functioning adult. He snuck out after with no one to witness him besides Sadaharu, creeping down his front stairs and emerging into the street without considering why he needed to run from his own home like this, the wee hours of the morning quiet against the buzz inside his skull.

The sun was in the sky by the time his emotions died back into apathy, not a cloud to be seen above him. Just a clear blue sky, the sunlight unhindered in any way, shape, or form.

Gintoki wished.

He was minding his own business, wondering what he was going to do with his day when his feet carried him into a quieter neighborhood. He was just walking, walking seemed to help. It was bad because he spent the whole walk thinking, but if he was home he would just miserably melt into his couch cushions, pissing everyone off. There were a lot of options for the day still, it was quite early. He still had time to rush home and sneak in before Kagura woke up, could make her breakfast he didn't want, and pretend like nothing was amiss.

He felt like Kagura deserved better than that, though. He didn't know how to sit in the same room with her anymore.

“Gintoki!”

 _Of all people to spot me..._ Gintoki walked quicker, pretending like he hadn't heard Katsura call out to him excitedly. It was a ruse more than anything, letting the idiot jog to catch up with him, Katsura out of breath as he fell into step at Gintoki's side. Gintoki glanced over to him, confliction rising in his chest. His smile came out dorky, not quite reaching his eyes.

“Hey, I was calling you!” Katsura said before laughing. “It's good to see you out so early for once and not sleeping away your day! Getting up at regular times is good for your mental health and focus, you know? It's the proper way a samurai should live.”

“You're cheating because you didn't sleep yet.” Gintoki said. “Proper samurai don't take four cat naps during the day because they're spending their nights breaking the law.”

Katsura laughed. He was in such a good mood that it rubbed Gintoki the wrong way, draining him. “I'm not breaking the law, I'm Katsura!”

They lulled into silence, Katsura keeping pace as Gintoki slowed down, aimlessly walking now, trying to stay in the quieter neighborhoods now that he had the rebel at his side. He'd left to think, hadn't he? _No, I left because I fled._ Gintoki sighed, eyes floating shut for a moment, the sun warm on his face. He was so tired. So tired of getting up in the morning. So tired of trying to trudge through the murk in his own head. So tired of making excuses for it and pretending like he could do this.

“It doesn't matter if you sleep at night or take cat naps during the day, as long as a samurai gets enough sleep. That's why regular sleep schedules are important, but some of us don't have that luxury, do we?” Katsura suddenly said.

Gintoki didn't glance at him, but he did roll his eyes. Leave it to Katsura to figure him out in minutes. This wasn't anything new. They'd had this argument before. Gintoki knew what was coming before Katsura could even bring it up himself.

It made Gintoki's heart lurch in hope.

Katsura gently elbowed Gintoki, his tone still playful but turning more serious. “You know, if tea or counting sheep don't work, there's no shame in finding something else to force it.”

“I'm not drugging myself for a good night's rest.” Gintoki said simply.

“It's not cheating,” Katsura said. “Not that the Gintoki I know would care if he was cheating, but if it does the job, then it does the job, Gintoki.”

Gintoki didn't respond, but his face did scrunch in annoyance. His eyes drifted down to the sidewalk, remembering what had happened the last time he had taken sleeping pills. It had been back when Otose had first picked him up. He'd been pacing for days around the shop, hadn't stopped for anything or anyone, his thoughts active and his body wired. The pills had made him groggy when he woke up, had clogged his senses. The sleep hadn't been restful, had left him feeling more shitty then when he had laid down. And most importantly, they hadn't done anything to ward off the _dreams_.

“They won't help.” Gintoki said. He was sure. He lifted his head again, frowning. “Zura, don't you have-”

“You look bad. Have you lost weight?” Katsura asked. His tone had shifted, the hints of nagging coming through. “It's obvious that you haven't been sleeping, Gintoki, you're not fooling anyone with those bags under your eyes. If you would just _try_ -”

“I _am_ trying!” Gintoki snapped. He stopped walking to get ahold of himself, his outburst completely unexpected and uncalled for. He clamped his jaw shut before he could say anything else, realizing that the lack of sleep, the guilt and the horror cycling through his mind was wearing him down. He turned away but Katsura reached out, his hand landing gently on Gintoki's injured arm. If Katsura noticed the bandages, he didn't say anything.

“Trying to what?” Katsura asked gently. “Help yourself or bury it?”

Gintoki only glanced to him, letting his emotions show through because Katsura deserved to see, to know that Gintoki was still suffering from what he had done all of those years ago. That it still haunted him daily. Nightly. Every inhale keeping him alive was an inhale he didn't deserve. “What do you think?” He walked away after, his thoughts more stormy than they had been before he left.

“You know what a good tactician does when his first strategy turns out to be shit?” Katsura yelled, trailing after him. “He tries a new tactic, keeping in mind the old one!”

“I'm not trying new tactics.” Gintoki called back, waving over his shoulder to indicate that this conversation was done and over with.

“Because you don't have any fresh ideas or because you don't think you deserve to succeed?” Katsura asked loudly, jogging to catch up.

“Shut up, wig-head.” Gintoki bit out. “What do you know about it?”

Katsura grabbed onto his arm to stop him, dragging Gintoki to a dead halt. He placed both hands on Gintoki's forearms, his face stern. Gintoki met his gaze and Katsura's frown only deepened. “What do I know about it? I know you've gotten comfortable with your guilt.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Gintoki snapped back, cold fear washing through his chest because Katsura wasn't wrong. He'd hit the nail on the head and Gintoki only had to wonder if he had been obvious lately, leaving little bread crumbs, hoping someone would follow them to the truth.

“You're high functioning, Gintoki. You know how to get up in the morning and go about your day, living with your sadness and your guilt.” Katsura said, but the way he said it was careful. His eyes were focused, determined. “What you don't know is how to get up and go about your day forgiving yourself, and the difference it would make scares you.”

Gintoki didn't move, eyes widening as he tried to piece together what Katsura was saying to him. _I_ _don't deserve_ _-_

“I know this because I was the same way. I got comfortable with the Joui and brought the war back to Edo after you and I split ways because I felt like… like if I didn't, then Sensei died in vain. That if I carried on and won the battle or died trying, it would make up for what happened to him, what happened to Takasugi, and for the choice you had to make. I didn't consider going about this any other way, thought I deserved to go down with this country fighting and that it would be above me not to take everything I could out with a bang.” Katsura said. He smiled, patting Gintoki's arms. “But then along came you.”

Gintoki's breath stopped. He grabbed onto Katsura for balance because he suddenly felt unsteady. “Zura, I didn't say anything to you...”

“I was scared my men would leave me if I stopped with the bombings, if I tried to get my message across in another, less violent way. Scared changing my view would result in everything I knew crumbling around me.” Katsura said. “But it didn't. You're all still here. It's different, but it's better. It's not perfect Gintoki, but I'm doing my best every day now and I want you to do your best too. All because you looked at me like you didn't know me anymore, and I realized I didn't recognize myself either. I was lost.”

Gintoki grit his teeth, trying to keep his burning gaze on Katsura. “I didn't...”

“You did. It's okay to be lost in the woods Gintoki, but at least let me show you the path out. You have options. I won't make you come but I always will wait for you on the outside.” Katsura said. He gave Gintoki's arms a few more pats. “Now you're coming with me. We're going to the pharmacy.”

“You just literally told me you wouldn't make me.”

“I said I'd show you the path, idiot. You deserve better.”

Katsura dragged him along anyway, and Gintoki realized that his hands were shaking. That his heart was fluttering in his chest and his breath was a little quick as they walked like Gintoki was about to be an accessory to a crime he didn't want to commit. Katsura chatted about the Joui which led to Elizabeth which led to the cute little strays in Kabuki which inevitably turned into Sadaharu. At Sadaharu's mention, fresh new guilt washed over Gintoki, remembering the Inugami comforting him in the night, protecting him from himself. Was that shame? The hot flush that encompassed Gintoki, leaving him breathless for a moment? Dishonor for letting himself fall so low? He was denying a problem even though it was obvious. _Why?_

_Because Karma's balancing my dues, is why._

Outside the pharmacy, Gintoki dug in his heels. He didn't know why this idea bothered him so much, didn't understand why it was so difficult for him to just agree and tag along. “Wait, wait, wait. What are we doing here? What are you doing?”

“It's easy, is it not?” Katsura asked. It was a challenge because Katsura knew it wasn't easy for Gintoki even though it should have been. He stopped, glancing to Gintoki with a frown. “The Gintoki I know wouldn't get scared to walk into a store because we have to buy pills for a sleep disorder. Who are you?”

 _Who are you?_ Gintoki chuckled nervously, trying to excuse himself. “I'm not _scared_. I just don't think you understand the situation, is all, and that you're jumping to conclusions and we don't need to be here.”

“Then explain it to me.” Katsura said simply, turning back to face Gintoki.

Gintoki's face flushed, his mouth shut. His eyes were locked on Katsura and Katsura knew he had won.

Katsura waited for a dramatic moment, his eyes turning sad as he took in Gintoki's expression, his resistance and his silence. If anyone knew Gintoki's ticks, it was Katsura. They'd grown up together and while some things had gone horribly wrong in their lives, other things hadn't changed at all. It was comforting but terrifying because Katsura could see straight through him.

“You can't explain and you can't do everything on your own.” Katsura said. Gintoki didn't deny it. “I have something to protect right now, you understand?”

Gintoki remembered Sadaharu protecting Gintoki from himself. If Sadaharu had asked to do it, Gintoki knew he would have declined. Figured this was also essentially just Katsura trapping Gintoki's offending arm to stop him from hurting himself without asking first.

Katsura waltzed into the pharmacy like he wasn't a wanted man and no one gave him a second glance. Gintoki followed him in nervously on his own, his arm slung into his yukata. The air conditioner was very nice against Gintoki's skin, but after a quick minute, it was too cold. It wasn’t until they were in the medication aisle, Katsura searching for something specific, that Gintoki was having a minor freak-out. Gintoki's eyes were wide as he scanned the shelves, so many names and symptoms and side effects. He recognized a lot of them, identified with a lot of the problems on the shelves, the idea of medicating himself even more numb just hitting him all wrong. If he couldn't get his shit together himself, what hope was there?

“You know the first step to recovery is admittance.” Katsura said as he straightened from the bottom shelf, a box of sleeping pills he must have preferred pulled out from the massive selection. “Hi Gintoki, I'm Katsura Kotarou and I occasionally have sleeping problems too. It's normal, but in your case, it's a sign to a bigger problem.”

“Don't just yell out your name like that, you idiot. And what is this, alcoholics anonymous? Hi, my name is Gintoki, and I'm an alcoholic?” Gintoki asked sarcastically, eyes fluttering down to the little box. “I can sleep. I can go to sleep. I don't have trouble sleeping.” _I just can't live with the dreams. The memories._

“You're not very good at this yet. And now that you mention it, you really do have a drinking problem too. You should try to get in front of that while you're at it. That's another sign.” Katsura said, wisping away from Gintoki, his hair flowing behind him.

“I wasn't- I'm not an alcoholic! That was a joke!” Gintoki called, quickly catching up before they drew in unwanted attention. “A joke, Zura! My alcohol consumption is within the safe limit.”

“I just told you the first step is admittance, Gintoki.” Katsura said. “You can't move forward until you stop denying everything. And while you're at it, try curbing that sugar addiction too!”

“What if I-” Gintoki stopped himself, sighing instead. _What if I don't want to move forward?_

Gintoki ended up paying because Katsura was just going to walk out with the box, petty thievery apparently not on the rebel's list of things he felt guilty for. Outside, Katsura shoved the plastic bag into Gintoki's hand and Gintoki held the bag like it contained a bomb.

“See? That wasn't hard. It's easier when you let other people help you.” Katsura said. His eyes were on Gintoki's, the smile glittering mischievously. “These ones don't make you feel like crap when you wake up the next morning. You won't feel groggy unless you take them too close to your alarm and force yourself to get up.”

Gintoki exhaled, bag dropping to hang at his side. They stood there for a moment before they had to part ways, Gintoki trying to find words to express his appreciation without just coming straight out and saying, _thanks, I really appreciate this._ Basic things like this were hard for Gintoki.

“Can you please try taking at least one?” Katsura asked. He glanced over, his eyes obviously worried. He looked like he was about to cry, which didn't really mean anything serious because Katsura cried over everything. But it still made Gintoki feel like garbage.

“Yeah. I'll try at least one.” Gintoki agreed. He glanced at the bag again, eyes tired and energy depleted. He needed the helping hand, he needed other people to help him like this because he just simply couldn't do it on his own. “Will they… will I dream?”

Katsura glanced over to him then, understanding on his face. “I hope you do. Gintoki, if you end up taking these to help repress everything then I made a huge mistake today. You need to talk about them. You can't just lock them in a little box and throw away the key or they'll never go away. They'll just get worse. Don't feed the demons.”

Gintoki sighed, already feeling defeated. “I'll try not too.”

“I want you to know that...” Katsura laughed. He trailed off, not one to cut off his own speeches. “I'll swing by this week. I miss Sadaharu, he's the goodest boy.”

“Yeah, whatever. My door's always open.” Gintoki snorted as he walked away, figuring he'd head home now. He felt drained, but he also felt conflicted. He paused, turned back to Katsura.“You said the first step was admittance?”

Katsura tilted his head curiously.

Gintoki exhaled, turning away so Katsura couldn't see his face. “Thank you for doing this for me.”

Katsura scoffed. “That wasn't admittance, Gintoki, that's still avoidance! You have to be specific! Specific!”

Gintoki laughed as he walked off towards home, wondering if he would ever be able to just come out and say what he was thinking. He didn't look back, caught up in realizing just how _hard_ these basic things were for him, but Katsura apparently had more to say.

“It's a good step in the right direction though! You're welcome! I hope someone else busts your ass over this too!” Katsura yelled. “I'll be sure to invade your personal space and stick my nose into your business more often! Don't forget you can reach out!”

Gintoki snorted, didn't doubt any of those claims. His heart felt a little lighter, his steps less heavy, but he was nervous now. Nervous because he was thinking of options now. Things he could do to try and ease his… he didn't like to think he was _suffering_. He had done what he had done and these were the consequences he had to live with for the rest of his life, but now the little voice in the back of his head was a little more confident, a little louder. That he could dream of a happier life, shackle-free.

 _No way._ Gintoki's thoughts reverted back, wondering how weird it would be for everyone else if he was suddenly not _himself._ He couldn't even imagine what it would be like to just be… better. What would that even look like for him?

The universe wasn't done with him, however. Gintoki was halfway home when he ran into _another_ familiar face angrily scowling in a park, another face he didn't really want to see. He paused before he was spotted, wondering what kind of chance this was. And after what Katsura had said to him, too? _It's easier when you let other people help you._ _Don't forget you can reach out!_

_What is with today? Should I have read my horoscope before I left? I didn't really think before running out the door._

“Odd Jobs.” Hijikata said, not giving Gintoki a chance to disappear. He was standing with Yamazaki at a vending machine, the pack of smokes he was trying to buy stuck on top of the previous pack of smokes he had tried to buy. It was one of those mixed vending machines, smokes on the bottom, snacks in the middle, drinks on top. Whoever filled the machine had been bad at his job. Probably got fired. Poor dude.

“Mayo-freak.” Gintoki greeted.

“This is your fault, isn't it? All that sugar is contaminating everything.” Hijikata snapped, whirling from the vending machine towards Gintoki. “You're just bad luck and misfortune waiting to happen!”

“It's not his fault the machine ate your money.” Yamazaki said. “But it is your fault you're being rude.”

“And whose fault is it that we're out here?” Hijikata snapped, turning back and kicking the vending machine. “Who was the one who slammed a badminton birdie through an old lady's window, huh?”

Gintoki approached the machine, digging into his pockets for change while Yamazaki apologized profusely. Faults and guilts were not what Gintoki wanted to think about, he hadn't done anything to the machine but he could believe his presence had jammed it up without even trying. He was having an… _emotional_ day… so he shoved his change into the machine and jammed his finger into the button for the strawberry milk. He deserved this, at least.

Right? _I said I'd show you the path, idiot._ _You deserve better._

The strawberry milk crashed into both cigarette packets. Hijikata turned back to the machine in excitement and then anger when Gintoki snatched up his milk and both packs of cigarettes. Without saying a word, Gintoki turned away and started to walk off. He slipped the strawberry milk into his bag, cigarettes disappearing into his yukata sleeve.

“Hey!”

Hijikata abandoned Yamazaki and caught up to Gintoki on the sidewalk, dancing around in front of him to stop him. He slammed both hands onto Gintoki's shoulders, forcing him to stop moving. “What the hell? You're just going to-”

Gintoki held out the packs, smiling up at the vice-chief, trying to look like he was up to no good like usual and not dying from physical and mental exhaustion. “Technically I got them out after they were stuck, so the rules say they're mine. You're gonna have to pay me for them. Finder's keepers.”

“Rules? What rules?” Hijikata asked, snatching the boxes out of Gintoki's hand. “I paid for them first, I'm not paying for them again!”

“The vending machine rules, idiot.” Gintoki said, moving to the side to pass him but Hijikata caught him by his wrist, his hand carefully wrapped around bandages.

“What are you doing?” Gintoki asked. He didn't like the gentleness, didn't like what it implied. He could handle it from Katsura because there was more history there, but for Hijikata to start this shit up too after one glance at him?

Hijikata was staring at him, at his face and his eyes, keen observation searching for evidence and information like he was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Gintoki swallowed, pulling gently on his wrist, feeling exposed because Hijikata's eyes were just as observant as Katsura's. Hijikata stared for a moment longer before letting him go.

“You're so stupid.” Hijikata said. He shoved one of the boxes into his pocket, tearing the other open so he could get himself a cigarette. “Stupid luck. You know what the problem is with buying two packs at once?”

Gintoki considered what would happen if he had bought two bottles of milk at once. “You'll go through them faster than usual?”

“Yeah.” Hijikata grumbled, lighting the cigarette. “Doesn't matter if I'm stressed. I know I have two now so I'll just keep casually smoking them because they help. And then you know what will happen tomorrow? I'll be tempted to buy two packs again. And then two packs won't be enough and by the time the month is done, I'm buying three a day.”

Gintoki blinked at him. Normally he would laugh and just tease him for his disgusting habits but today, he was searching for the double meaning. Hijikata had seen something in Gintoki's eyes just like Katsura had, and now he was saying something without just coming out and saying it.  
  
“Vices only really work when they're controlled and moderated.” Gintoki said in summary, and if he hadn't just been emotionally tested by Katsura, his voice might not have come out so clipped. Hijikata noticed, snapped attention to it. It was a clue, supporting evidence. To cover it up, Gintoki laughed and walked past him, continuing on his way home. He was going to make a joke about Hijikata's mayonnaise consumption but he stopped himself. He didn't really want Hijikata to tag along. Didn't know if he could handle someone else lecturing him and giving him speeches. _If you didn't want him to tag along, you_ _w_ _ould have left the cigarettes in the vending machine._

Hijikata fell into step with him anyway. Gintoki glanced over in annoyance, his mouth opening to complain.

“You're not feeling well.” Hijikata stated simply.

Gintoki closed his mouth, looking away. He considered Hijikata a good friend these days. Hell, he probably liked the officer just as much as he liked Katsura, trusted him just the same after a shorter time together. They were polar opposites in many aspects, Hijikata and Katsura, but for others, there wasn't much difference.

Gintoki hadn't shared much of his past with him. Hijikata had never asked and Gintoki had never had opportunities to just tell. Had vaguely told Hijikata about what happened to Shouyou – mostly in implications, never descriptive – and Hijikata knew he still dwelled over it. He'd mentioned the nightmares once, but never mentioned how much they upset Gintoki's daily life.

Gintoki sighed. He didn't know what to say about it, didn't know how to disrupt his own regular routine of dodging the bullet, so he just shot the comment back at Hijikata. “And you're already so moody today.”

Hijikata grunted. “Shut up. Yamazaki smacked a birdie straight through an old lady's window and I had to go down there and get it fixed for her. I've lost so much time already.”

“And now you're wasting more on me, just like our taxes.” Gintoki said. He had meant to tease, hadn't meant for it to sound self-deprecating.

“Hey.” Hijikata reached out again, stopping them on the sidewalk. He had a hand on Gintoki's arm again. Gintoki tried to cut Hijikata off with a joke, but Hijikata spoke over him using his authoritative tone. “You really have to stop that.”

“Stop what?” Gintoki asked. “The tax joke?”

“No. The way you talk about yourself.” Hijikata said. “You don't even realize you're doing it, do you? Usually, you do it when you're talking highly about other people so it's not as noticeable that you're deprecating yourself, but sometimes-”

“I was joking.” Gintoki said. He laughed for emphasis, pulling his arm free from Hijikata's hand. “You're so nit-picky today, can't you channel that energy onto the Joui or something? They're being really annoying today, you know. I have to go.”

“Gintoki.” Hijikata's hand was back on his arm again, fingers just touching, eyes on Gintoki's face. He raised an eyebrow and Gintoki rolled his eyes. _The first step is admittance._

Gintoki laughed out loud, trying to get Katsura's stupid speech out of his head. “You look so concerned over a joke.”

“I am.” Hijikata said. He made a face then, frowning. “You don't look like you're doing good.”

 _He admitted it to me._ Gintoki chuckled hopelessly, turning away to continue walking. He hadn't thought his face had looked that bad earlier, but two people now? Gintoki weighed his options, acknowledged his opportunities. Tried a little honesty himself. “Maybe you're right.”

Hijikata stuck to him like glue after that, trailing along. “What?”

“I said _maybe_ you're right. As in possibly. Not sure.” Gintoki said. He glanced over then, surprised to see the shock on the officer's face.

Hijikata stared at him for a moment before he suddenly looked alarmed. He stopped them, _again_ , one hand on Gintoki's arm and the back of his other hand slapping onto Gintoki's forehead. “Are you sick? You don't feel too warm but your face is definitely thinner. What the hell is wrong with you, telling me shit like that? Are you dying?”

“I'm not sick or dying, what are you doing?” Gintoki slapped his hand away but Hijikata caught that one too, jostling the plastic bag. “What is your problem?”

Hijikata glanced down at the bag, the two contents completely visible. Gintoki, refusing to acknowledge that he unreasonably panicked in that moment, kicked Hijikata in the shin to stop him even though he had already seen. They squabbled after like a couple of kids on the playground, Hijikata losing his smoke from both his mouth and his pockets and Gintoki dropped his bag. Hijikata tried to smack Gintoki over the head for the shin kick, Gintoki jabbing him in the ribs. Hijikata got a good poke to Gintoki's nose that had been aimed for his eyes and Gintoki almost broke those fingers when he shoved his flat palm at Hijikata's face. Hijikata kicked him in the knee and Gintoki tripped him on his way down.

They shoved each other away in the grass, scrambling back to their feet, brushing off the dirt and grass from their pants because they were grown-ass men.

“You always fight so dirty!” Hijikata snapped, throwing a handful of grass Gintoki's way as he picked up his lost packets of cigarettes. “You would never qualify for a professional swordsman.”

“Your professional swordsman are the first to die on the battlefield.” Gintoki said simply, retrieving his plastic bag with grass and twigs in his hair. “Point matches are merely for show these days.”

“Is that what this is about?” Hijikata asked. “The war?”

Gintoki clicked his tongue, glancing up to the sky that was still clear, not a cloud to be seen despite the fact that he had been out for hours now. It was a sign, a clear sky, turmoil free. It was a stark contrast to the rain of blood in Gintoki's head. Katsura's words rang through his head again, the guilt gnawing at him from the inside out. _The first step is admittance._

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Gintoki said. He glanced back down to Hijikata.

“You're not sleeping.” Hijikata said, approaching again. He had seen the box, could put two and two together. “Not sleeping at all, are you? Nightmares?”

“Maybe.” Gintoki said.

“Why did you kick me when I looked?” Hijikata asked, pulling out another smoke seeing how he had lost his previous one. He waited until he was done speaking to light it. “I don't think any different of you. We all have our problems. You know you can talk to me seriously sometimes, right?”

Gintoki just shrugged.

“It's not just that, is it?” Hijikata asked. He glanced down to Gintoki's arm, eyes lingering as he exhaled his first lungful. His suspicion suddenly came back, eyes scrutinizing every single detail. “You've been minding that arm.”

Gintoki glanced to it. It all came full circle, didn't it? The whole reason Gintoki was out here, running into these idiots was because of _this_. Because he didn't want to see Kagura's face when she spotted the new stain on Sadaharu's leg. Because he had no words to explain all of the tragedy that had happened to him. Because when he dreamed of what he had done, of what had been done to him, the only emotion that came forward was _guilt._ That he deserved it, that he had to live with it without ever progressing forward. That getting better was somehow cheating and insulting those who had died at his back, at his hands. And lately, it had accompanied an agonizing desire to simply release himself from this peaceful world, nails tearing through skin. He'd considered it when he left the war, had considered it in prison. He'd tried against that tombstone, but then Otose had shown up and _saved him._

He'd been considering it again, but here he was. He didn't understand why the universe wanted to keep him. Surely it hadn't forgiven him either.

The sky was so clear and calm above him. Gintoki was tainting it by simply existing. He was tainting everything and everyone he touched.

“Gintoki?” Hijikata asked. He was suddenly closer, cigarette held to the side so that the smoke blew away in the wind. He looked more worried than he had earlier, his eyes a little wider and his eyebrows more creased. “Gintoki, what's wrong?”

“It's nothing.” Gintoki said, but his voice came out cracked and thin and he realized Hijikata was staring at him so intently because he was crying. His cheeks were cold, lashes wet. Gintoki laughed in surprise, a hand to his face to confirm he wasn't imagining it before he tried to turn away.

“Hey.” Hijikata stubbed out his cigarette, grabbing onto the plastic hanging from Gintoki's hand and giving it a gentle tug. Yamazaki had been forgotten, the two of them the only ones in the world right now. “Let's walk. Let's go.”

They walked in silence. Gintoki spent the first ten minutes trying to come up with an excuse that wasn't the truth, spent the last fifteen trying to figure out how to explain what was going on inside his head.

He ended up in Hijikata's room in the barracks, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Hijikata was muttering something about airflow as he carefully unwrapped Gintoki's arm. Hadn't asked, had just gotten his little medical kit and taken Gintoki's arm.

Gintoki had let him.

Hijikata didn't even blink as the mess came into view, weeks of suffering clear as day on Gintoki's skin. He held Gintoki's wrist after, inspecting them. His face was scrunched up, but after a couple of seconds, he looked relieved.

Gintoki felt like it had to be said. His tears had stopped and his face was dry, but Hijikata had already seen everything anyway. “It wasn't intentional.”

Hijikata glanced up to him without moving his head. He knew that just from looking, but he didn't know that Gintoki sometimes considered just shredding it himself. “You shouldn't have wrapped them so tight. You were trying to hide it and this isn't something you should feel ashamed about.”

 _Stupid police officers_ _and their stupid observation_ _._ Gintoki closed his eyes while Hijikata finished his inspection. He lightly taped a wad of gauze over them, letting the air flow like he had been saying. When he was done, Gintoki opened his eyes to the sound of his plastic bag rustling. Hijikata had pulled it over, slamming down the bottle of milk in front of Gintoki.

“Drink it before it gets any warmer.” Hijikata said, sliding the bag back Gintoki's way. “I'll be right back.”

Gintoki watched Hijikata get up. He watched him disappear from his room, sliding the door open and stepping out onto the veranda. Idly, Gintoki reached for his bottle of milk and cracked it open, taking a sip. The strawberries did little to rejuvenate his mood, nerves souring the milk in his stomach. He briefly mused that he might have nightmares now about the day Shouyou had been taken from him. What he was feeling now was similar; nothing would be the same after he went back home, something personal would always be in danger now. And it was him. He was the one in danger.

Gintoki didn't drink his milk, considering himself.

When Hijikata came back he closed the door behind him, blocking out the sun. He sat down on the floor right before Gintoki, sliding a card his way. It was a business card, and as soon as Gintoki saw what it was for he immediately felt nervous and overwhelmed again just like he had standing in that aisle with Katsura.

Otose had tried to send Gintoki to therapy once. He'd quit after a session and a half.

“Don't be mad.” Hijikata said and Gintoki snapped his eyes up to him with a protest leaving his mouth. “ _But,_ it can help. And I can get you in without you having to worry about paying for it. It's not that hard, I can pull the strings.”

“No.” Gintoki said automatically.

“I'm not done and I'm not asking you to decide right now. You don't have to go if you don't want to, it's just an option.” Hijikata said. He was using his no-nonsense tone, reminding Gintoki of Katsura again. “You just… you need something, Gintoki. You need some guidance, you're lost right now. She works with the Shinsengumi, she deals with us when we're pulled out of the field for an injury or post-trauma or anything and everything else. Anxiety. Depression. All of it. I've personally seen her. She's not scary. At all. And she'll work at your pace which I know is slow. Very slow.”

“You're calling me slow?” Gintoki tried to joke, he really tried but it fell flat. As he accepted the card, he felt empty inside. It felt like that moment after he had finally stopped screaming over Shouyou's head. “You don't have to go this far, it isn't that bad.”

Hijikata fixed Gintoki with a _look._

Gintoki tried again, tried not to obviously lie. “The war was ten years ago, Hijikata. That's a long time ago and I still get up every day.”

“That's all you do some days though, isn't it?” Hijikata asked. “Get up every day? Do you want to spend the next ten years like this? The next twenty, if you make it that long? Thirty if your sad heart doesn't give out on you first?”

Gintoki fixed his dead-fish eyes on him. He didn't give him the _look_ because he was upset with him, did it because that was all he knew. He didn't know how to accept Hijikata's words, didn't know how he was supposed to respond to them. Hijikata was right. The first thing Gintoki thought about ten years in the future was that Kagura would be almost twenty-five, Shinpachi almost twenty-seven. Adults. Would they still be living and working under his roof or moving out to make their own lives? Married? Children? Moving away? As Gintoki was now, would he be good for their kids? He didn't think so. He didn't even think he was good for the kids now, let alone their kids. But thinking about it, Gintoki wanted it to be different. He wanted to see Kagura grown-up, Shinpachi. He wanted to see their children bless the world.

Without Kagura and the dog that kept Gintoki from tearing into an artery every night, what would Gintoki have left? Otose would be old – so old he didn't even want to think about it yet. Katsura risked his life every day, Hijikata too. One bad raid on both their sides and that was it. He wasn't living in the past at least but he was living every day held back. He was losing everyone around him, was keeping himself distanced because that tombstone was pulling him again, telling him it was time to give up.

“You're crying again.” Hijikata said. He chuckled, trying not to look so serious as he patted at Gintoki's arm. “Are you actually considering what I said? How does the future look right now, Gintoki?”

Gintoki nodded, glancing away. “It looks gloomy.”

Gintoki choked on a laugh-sob, leaning his elbows onto his knees. Hijikata scooted closer to place a hand on his shoulder. He gently called him an idiot, rubbing his back. “Well then protect it.”

Gintoki laughed into his hand, thick tears running down his face. He hid his eyes in his palms, shuddering out a quiet sob. He sat there for quite some time until his face was dry. The door to the room was cracked open and letting the air in, Hijikata still sitting close with a hand on him. Once Gintoki could see again he raised, his head, gently wiping at his face and nose with his yukata sleeve.

“That's so gross, you're getting germs everywhere.” Hijikata chastised. “Get outside before I have to bleach everything in here.”

On the veranda, Gintoki finished his bottle of milk, staring at the sky. It was starting to turn orange as the sun began to set, not a cloud to be seen still. Gintoki stared, his empty milk bottle in his hands. The milk was sitting uncomfortably in his empty stomach, reminding him that he hadn't even eaten that day. _I'm just a giant mess, aren't I?_

“Do you at least feel better?” Hijikata asked. He had his feet dangling off the edge, another smoke between his lips. He had shed his jacket, was leaning back on his hands so he could look at the sky too. There were probably five-hundred other things for the officer to be doing, but he had sat down with Gintoki instead.

“Not really.” Gintoki said, eyes still on the sky. Sakamoto was up there somewhere, laughing without a care in the world. Gintoki knew the idiot would cry at his funeral too. “I feel worse, actually. Thanks.”

Hijikata snorted. “You're welcome. That means you're really seeing your situation for what it is.”

Gintoki chuckled, turning his gaze back to Hijikata. “You're so annoying, you know that? And you remind me of another really annoying friend of mine. Getting your hands in my business like this.”

“He better bust your ass like I do.” Hijikata said. “Maybe I'll chat him up next time I'm arresting him. Wouldn't that suck for you if we joined forces to nag you into taking better care of yourself.”

Gintoki laughed, standing up. “You might get brain damage first and forget what you really joined him to do.”

“Not likely.” Hijikata retorted. “Get out of here. Go home. You have something important to do right now, don't you? You'll be okay?”

“If I tell you I'm still refusing your offer, would you admit you're disappointed?” Gintoki asked, standing up in the grass, his gaze still turned upward. He left his milk bottle behind.

“No. I wouldn't be disappointed.” Hijikata said. He took a drag, considering it. “I think after a week of surveillance you might change your mind though. I don't trust you right now for your own good, but I won't push you. Yet. Don't forget you can come here, okay?”

“You said you saw this lady before. She isn't scary.” Gintoki said. He wasn't asking to be nosy. He was asking because he wanted to know the difference. The Hijikata now versus the Hijikata Gintoki could have met instead. “What did you go for?”

Hijikata snorted out a laugh so hard that Gintoki glanced over to him in surprise. It took him a minute to clear his throat. “I originally went the first time an innocent bystander died because of my decisions. I spent the week after stuck on the case, trying to figure out what I could have and should have done instead, who would have been saved. But then I started worrying about it happening again the next time I went into the field. It clouded my judgment. I wanted to quit and Kondou told me I wasn't thinking straight. He made me go. I won't make you talk, Gintoki. I'll ask, but you can decline. But Kondou made me go, and let me tell you when I say he forced me I really mean it.” Hijikata took a drag, laughing. Gintoki took the moment to imagine Kondou dragging Hijikata through the barracks by his ear. Or did he cry and beg until Hijikata's stubbornness wore out? Followed Hijikata around like a puppy with tears in his eyes, constantly pleading the vice-chief to get better.

“Turned out I had more issues impacting my daily decisions than just what had happened in the field.” Hijikata said. “If I hadn't gone, I can guarantee that you and I never would have met.”

Hijikata glanced up to Gintoki, and Gintoki stared back at him in shock. There was something knowing on Hijikata's face, something that went straight to Gintoki's heart.

“You'll be okay.” Hijikata said. He sounded sure. “You just have to let yourself.”

Gintoki skulked home with that thought at the back of his mind. And when he showed up at home, Sadaharu excited to see him and Kagura lecturing him but sharing her snacks anyway, he gave the card in his pocket a second thought. Ten years from now he wouldn't wake up trapped beneath Sadaharu's furry leg, blood staining both of them. He wouldn't. He refused to let himself go on like this. He'd dig out that business card and would make the call, or he would finally disappear from the path into the darkened heart of woods.

The choice was his.


End file.
